


no man should have all that power

by heytherelittlered (mehira)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, BAMF!Stiles, Canonical Character Death, Espionage, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Slash, Slow Burn, Swearing, Violence, alternative universe, assassin!Stiles, cursing, mentions of torture, psychic connection, really slow burn, some angst maybe, spy!stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-11-16 12:03:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mehira/pseuds/heytherelittlered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles isn't really what he seems and what do we actually know about the Stilinskis anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

What failed to be accounted for was that Stiles has been exposed to the harsh realities of the world, including the supernatural, for a very long time. No one really knew how or why his mom died. Here’s a hint: it wasn’t cancer. Yes, it was painful, and people were told it was a sudden onset of cancer. But it wasn’t. Why was everyone told it was cancer? Well it was easier than explaining how she managed to die from a combination of Erdheim-Chester disease and arsenic poisoning. It was a cover-up, but not to protect her killers, her true killers were soon to be dead and in the ground, but there wasn’t anything they could do to save her. They hadn’t figured it out in time. How did this happen? Now that’s one for the books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no beta, so all mistakes are mine. Title is from Power by Kanye West.


	2. in the beginning

 

What you don’t know about the Stilinskis is that they had actually been heavily involved in the field of espionage for years. Granted, they weren’t the Stilinskis at the time. The Stilinski name came later, after the tragedy when they were getting out of the game. Their codnames had been James & Annie Wayne and their son Gideon. Now Gideon was their little prodigy, not that you’d know it by paying attention to him in “real life,” he had perfected the mask and double life from a young age. He had to.

He didn’t think he even had a “real” name. Gideon was the one most often used, and it was the one on his file, but he didn’t think it was his birth name. It didn’t matter though. He became what he needed to be; he was a chameleon. If he had to pick a fun codename, he’d probably choose Darwin. Not only does it seem fitting, but he’s a pretty awesome superhero. Or maybe the Chameleon, since he made that observation earlier, although he didn’t really like the villain. He just wasn’t cool enough.

There were many missions that could be better executed by children rather than adults because who would seriously suspect an nine year old of being as spy? Or an assassin for that matter, but we won’t get into that part quite yet. He was often sent on missions without his parents who had taken him on most jobs when he was younger.

For those missions his partner was almost always M, the letter not the name. She was barely a month older than him although she was a grade ahead of him in regular school. They worked well together, especially after one of their missions ended with a witch cursing them into a psychic connection. Yes, even at age nine, they’d known about the supernatural, or at least some of it.

It was supposed to be a curse, but they’d twisted it to their advantage. They learned how to control it, making it so that only the important stuff was shared instead of every passing thought and feeling. What they definitely didn’t do was inform their handlers, even at nine they knew that had the potential to end badly. Their unique connection allowed them to thrive, especially on tougher jobs, and it helped them on the ones where they had to be quiet. Neither of them could shut up for long and the connection allowed them to speak to each other without saying anything

It was one of their jobs that ended up killing his mother. They found out much later that someone at the agency had leaked information that got them captured. It was supposed to be a relatively easy job: break into an information broker that was known to have ties to the organization CHAOS, steal the information on CHAOS, and get out. They were captured almost as soon as the job began. They entered through a window on the third floor and made their way into the office. A large group of heavily armed men had been waiting for them. They would have been killed had Annie not been on standby.

They’d been bound and gagged and tossed in a cell. Although they were still able to talk to each other, they hadn’t managed to come up with a solid plan. It’d scarcely been an hour in captivity when Annie and slipped in and released them. She’d also managed to get the information they were supposed to acquire when she’d hacked their system to determine their whereabouts. As they made their way out, Annie was hit in the back of the neck with a dart. She’d yanked it out and kept moving, saving the needle in case they needed it later. All three had made it out and back to the agency. A grudging success, right? Wrong.

* * *

 

 

SAYING GOODBYE

They were in the middle of the debriefing when Annie collapsed into convulsions. There were frantic calls for medics as she lay on the floor. Medics rushed in and started their work, getting her onto a gurney to be taken for evaluation and treatment. Above the din, the cries of a boy grown too fast could be heard as he called out distraughtly for his mother. Gideon and M followed the gurney and James came running out of nowhere to join them.

“the dart,” M said softly, before crying, “the dart! She got hit on our way out. I think she kept it, check her pockets.

The medics began digging through her pockets, not stopping until they found the dart. “Send it ahead for testing,” the lead medic ordered and one of the assistants took off down the hall.

The group made its way into the hospital wing and Annie was handed over to the doctors. Immediately after being hooked up to monitors, it became apparent that her vitals were alarming. Suddenly there was just a horrid long beep. “We need a crash cart!” one of the doctors yelled, starting CPR, “and we need to know what was in that dart!” They were able to get Annie’s heart going again and stabilize her vitals, but it was clear they were running out of time.

James was pacing back and forth outside her room, repeatedly running hands through his hair as if it could ground him. M was wrapped around Gideon as they sat in chairs across the hall from Annie’s room. M was doing her best to send calm, soothing feelings to Gideon and take some of his pain and worry. It was the least she could do.

Within an hour, things were taking a turn for the worse: they doctors were struggling to keep her vitals stable and they still didn’t know what was causing it. “How many tests do they have to run before they figure out what’s wrong?!” James growled in frustration.

One of the doctors exited her room, “She’s conscious, but barely. We don’t think it will last long. You should say your goodbyes.”

Gideon felt his heart sink. This couldn’t be happening. Not to his mother. He dashed into the room “Mom?” he spoke quietly, his voice wavering.

“Hi, baby,” she answered, her voice rough and weak, “you be strong, okay? I love you so very much. Don’t… blame yourself.” She was growing weaker and Gideon sobbed harder, not hearing the last words she spoke to his father. The horrible beep sounded again, not stopping until one of the doctors came in and shut off the machines.

“I’m sorry for you loss,” he said quietly, before leaving the room

 _I know words cannot make it better, but I’m sorry_ M thought to him as she slipped into the room to hug him, sending love, comfort, and sympathy through the bond. _Remember, we can have revenge, but that must not be our reason for living for what would we do after?_ She slipped silently back out the door, leaving Gideon and James to grieve.

James finally turned away from his wife’s bedside to envelope his son in a tight embrace. “We’ll get through this,” he whispered, “but first we’re getting out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Hebrew, Gideon means "destoyer" or "mighty warrior" not the most apt for a spy, but I kind of like it.
> 
> I will get to the present and how this will affect the pack eventually.


	3. interlude: revenge

They found out later that the dart had injected her with a highly concentrated dose of arsenic along with the pathogen that caused Erdheim-Chester disease. It didn’t really matter what killed her though. She was dead and nothing could be done about it. The information came too late. About a week after her death, James was still working on getting Gideon and him out of the game, but Gideon and M were gearing up for revenge in their other capability: assassins. You laugh at the thought of two eleven year olds going to take out an entire organization? Exactly.

The headquarters of CHAOS were located in a single building on the outskirts of Singapore. Intelligence indicated there would be a board meeting taking place the coming Thursday. The plan, in short, was to take everyone out. For whatever reason, the board meeting would take place in a room with a wall of windows, a perfect target for snipers. They wired the building with C4 before taking up perch on a building a few blocks away. They would leave nothing to chance.

About fifteen minutes into the meeting, they struck. Easily dividing up the targets between them with their connection, each took out seven before Gideon triggered the explosion. Gideon wiped down the burn phone they’d used as a trigger before crushing it and leaving it in a dumpster several blocks from their perch.

With their revenge accomplished, they flew back to Hawaii where they’d checked into a hotel to cover their tracks before leaving for Singapore. Gideon called James who informed them that CHAOS had been taken down. Gideon let out a sigh of relief (because they couldn’t let him know they were responsible) before letting him know they’d be leaving Hawaii in two days.

Having set everything in order, they were finally able to relax, at least as much as they ever could. Destroying the organization and killing the people responsible gave a sick sort of satisfaction, but the revenge was not their life. They did their best to unwind and forget what they’d done and what had happened in the past couple weeks. They shared a bed as they always did: sleeping back-to-back, protecting each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter in Beacon Hills!


	4. becoming stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After I introduce a codename/identity I will refer to that character by the new name

It was another week after returning from Hawaii before Gideon and James left for their new lives in Beacon Hills, California. James would become John and Gideon would become Genim. He decided that he’d rather go by Stiles, taken from their new last name, Stilinski. He liked it well enough and was happy to have a name he chose himself.

He said his goodbyes to M, but of course they’d keep in touch even if there was no evidence of it. She told him she’d drop by when she wasn’t on missions. John’s new job as a deputy gave him cause to keep an eye on the community, and Stiles would finally be getting an uninterrupted, normal education as he was registered to begin seventh grade at Beacon Hills Middle School.

Stiles became the mask he wore so well: hyperactive, spastic, nerdy, talkative, and generally happy. Fake it till you make it, right? On the first day of school, he met Scott McCall, a somewhat quiet, but generally smart kid with asthma. They became fast friends, neither really having anyone else. They had every class together and had to resist chattering on throughout their classes. After that first day, they became inseparable, they were each other’s confidantes. Scott would tell Stiles about the bad days with his Dad before he finally left the summer before their eighth grade. Stiles would tell Scott about the difficult cases his father was working on and sometimes drag him out to crime scenes.

Sometimes M would drop by as Emma, Stiles’ cousin, although they liked to say they were siblings. Her visits became less and less frequent as she rose in the world of espionage, taking on many jobs lead to rarely having any free time. She got along well with Scott. This wasn’t all that surprising seeing as she and Stiles were still practically the same person, at least in public, so it was reasonable to assume that if you got along well with one, you would with the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will probably be canon/future time


	5. back to the future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back around present time about a month after the Kanima business ended. This chapter is also pretty focused on Derek

Boyd and Erica had been left bloodied but alive on the steps of the Hale House a few weeks after Jackson finally became a werewolf.

It turns out that Derek actually has a bleeding heart; he took them back and made sure they healed. He’d also given Jackson some space, allowing him to heal form his trauma and fix his relationship with Lydia. Jackson had come to him not long after his transformation. He was still egotistical and self-important, but he realized he needed Derek’s help to learn control. Derek had even gone as far as to back off from Scott, leaving him to his own devices, but still bailing him out when he and Stiles were cornered by two of the alphas. Isaac had been spending more time with Scott and Derek didn’t press, knowing that Isaac needed normalcy right now.

He was letting them heal. He may have thought they would heal better together, but he also didn’t want to drive them away. He’d been thinking about the house lately, especially after Peter left, saying that “staying in abandoned places and the burnt out shell of my former home is a little psychological killer, even for me.”

They had always been fairly well off and the insurance money ensured that money wasn’t something he’d ever have to worry about. He stood in front of the house, gazing up at the burnt visage. He knew they would want him to move forward, but he didn’t think he could ever forgive himself for the mistakes that cost the family their lives.

Call him sentimental, but he’d always like photography. He snapped a few shots of the outside before heading inside with a heavy sigh. When he wrapped up, he would be heading down to city hall to pick up the necessary permits for the construction. He’d already hired a contractor and crew and they were to begin their work the following Monday. After another week or so, he’d probably call for a pack meeting so they could sort things out.

The few times he’d seen Stiles around, he’d smelled more like a hunter: like wolfsbane and gunpowder. It smelled wrong, but that wasn’t his business. If Scott was fine with it, that was his prerogative. At least that’s what he told himself, in truth he was worried. If there was anyone who should not be involved, it was Stiles. He was normal, or normalesque, with no immunity or hunter legacy to keep him in the supernatural world. Scott hadn’t been as close with Stiles lately, his time taken up by Isaac. Stiles didn’t owe Scott anything. So why was he still involved? Derek tore his thoughts away from the conundrum that is Stiles so he could finish saying goodbye to his childhood home.

A few weeks later, construction was underway at the Hale House and Derek called a meeting of everyone: Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Jackson, Lydia, Scott, and Stiles. They ended up meeting at Lydia’s because her parents don’t seem to care about anything going on with her life. In any case, the meeting was taking place in the comfort of a _real building_ as Stiles chose to point out. There wasn’t much to discuss other than who was working with whom.

Once that was hammered out (everyone but Scott and Stiles were one group. Scott and Stiles were occasionally joined by Isaac and Stiles generally floated between the two groups. Lydia and Stiles had also stuck up a seemingly unlikely friendship and were almost another group to themselves that were often joined by Allison who was slowly working on redeeming herself. Stiles like to call them the human pack.), they settled down to watch a movie. In trying to avoid clichés and triggers, they ended up watching Shrek and Shrek 2.

Everything was quiet for once; the pack(s) were getting along, the alpha pack had been laying low, there hadn’t been any hunter raids, and construction was progressing on the Hale House. Of course that was when everything went to shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point in time, no one but the Stilinskis know about their past. That will be changing fairly soon.


	6. going through hell

July 17th would forever be etched in Derek’s memory as the day they wound up in hell. Not literal hell, although that may have been preferable.

Tension had been building for a couple of weeks now. It wasn’t anything tangible, just something in the air, a feeling. Without anything concrete, all the pack(s) could do was be extra careful. _Constant vigilance!_ Stiles had growled, channeling his inner Mad-Eye.

In the end, it hadn’t mattered; the entire group had been captured by rogue hunters working with the Alpha Pack. That had been a surprise. They’d even gone as far to take Allison, Melissa, and the Sheriff. The werewolves were wrapped in heavy chains and kept in individual cells while the humans were handcuffed in the room containing the cells. Everyone could see each other, see that they were alright, well, relatively. It was almost eerie how calm everyone was being, even the Sheriff who supposedly had no knowledge of the supernatural or anything that had been going on in town recently. Everything was quiet. Then the Alphas came in.

“You will submit to us,” Deucalion growled as he pulled on a pair of black leather gloves.

“Kind of kinky, don’t you think?” Stiles snarked at him and was rewarded with a slap.

The sheriff made an odd grimace and sighed, “Stiles, you know better than that.” This struck everyone as odd. Wouldn’t you expect John to be more worried about his son being smacked around?

Eniss stalked into the cell containing Derek and delivered a swift kick to the ribs. Melissa winced as she heard the ribs crack, and Derek spit out some blood, but those were the only reactions. “Why won’t you submit?” Eniss snarled, “it’s hopeless to think you’ll survive us.”

Stiles gave a dark little chuckle, “not as hopeless as you think,” he muttered.

“What was that?” Deucalion questioned, grabbing Stiles’ chin and forcing him to meet his eye.

“It means you didn’t do nearly enough homework,” Stiles hissed.

“It doesn’t matter,” Deucalion responded, seemingly unruffled, “you’re all here and captured. There’s no one left to come for you.” Stiles just rolled his eyes. There was a flicker of doubt in Deucalion’s eyes, but Stiles saw it. It gave him a little hope, but mostly just made him uneasy. That kind of opponent could be dangerous and unpredictable, exactly what Stiles didn’t need right now.

Deucalion released Stiles with a jerk. “Which of you should I torture to break everyone?” He mused. He turned slowly, inspecting each of his captives before staring back down at Stiles. “It’s you. Isn’t it?” Stiles just glared up at him. “What the best way to break you that will break all of them?”

He barked out a laugh, shedding a glove and crouching in front of Stiles. He trailed a claw down his cheek. “So many things we could do to you,” he murmured, “where to start. Where to start.” He gave Stiles a sharp slap across the face. Stiles reeled back, his head slamming into the wall. Sparks flashed through his vision and he bit back a retort. Deucalion stepped back, “I have to get certain… implements, and then we’ll really get started.”

* * *

HELL AND A NOT TOTALLY UNEXPECTED RESCUE

Deucalion had returned with his supposedly intimidating box of tricks, aka torture tools, although if you asked Stiles, he was not impressed. The werewolves seriously lacked any creativity, sticking mostly to gratuitous violence. If they wanted to break them, they’d need more psychological tactics than brute force.

While Deucalion and his minions (alphas, whatever) were trying to break Stiles, Stiles mostly ignored what was going on, retreating into his mind and taking solace in Emma’s company. Of course no one else knew this and were becoming progressively more concerned with his lack of reaction. Eventually Deucalion delivered a final kick before leaving with a last remark, “Take some time to think about how you wish to proceed. Our next session won’t be so kind.”

Even after they left, Stiles remained silent, instead keeping his mind on Emma. It was easier than facing the pain currently coursing through his body. “Stiles?” came the gruff voice of his father. He became increasingly unnerved as Stiles failed to respond. Despite all his training, this was is son and he broke. “Gideon!” he pleaded, nudging Stiles with his foot, “answer me!”

Stiles blinked, coming out of his haze. “Hey, Dad,” he gave a soft smile despite the pain.

“Where did you go, kid?” he asked, still concerned.

“That’s not really a conversation I want to have,” he responded with a grimace, “She’s on her way you know? I managed to get word just before we were grabbed.” It was technically true as he didn’t specify how he’d managed to get a hold of her. The wolves didn’t question the truth of his statement, only the content.

“What do you mean?” Scott questioned, “who’s coming?”

“An old friend of mine,” Stiles replied, “she should hopefully be here soon.”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s good you’re not broken, but why aren’t you more concerned about being tortured?” Allison asked.

He shrugged, “Well it’s certainly not the first time I’ve been tortured, and it’s unlikely to be the last. I’m resilient.” That shook the group, except for John who knew just what Stiles had been trained to resist. “I mean, Gerard happened just a couple of months ago. I’m the guy that gets beat on.”

Everyone looked at him, horrified. “Is that really how you see yourself?” Derek asked, his voice strangled.

“Does it matter?” Stiles asked with a small twisted smile, “it is what it is.”

“Of course it matters!”Scott spluttered, “you see yourself as a human punching bag!?”

“It’s not that I see myself that way, it’s just that it happens,” he explained calmly, “now we need to figure out what our plan is.”

“I thought you said a friend of yours was coming?” Isaac asked, confused.

“She is, but she’s not here yet, so in the meantime we need a plan,” Stiles replied, his eyes flicking over to John’s. The wolves suddenly all shifted to face the door. “What is it?”

“It sounds like a hunter/wolf battle, but with a lot heavier firepower.” Derek rumbled, the alpha creeping into his voice.

“Huh, she’s early,” Stiles mused. _Why didn’t you tell me you were here already?_

_We’ve got a ways to go before we make it to you. Plus you know how much I like a dramatic entrance._

The group was on edge, not knowing what was going on and kept flashing Stiles strange looks. “How close do you think they are?” Stiles inquired.

“Maybe five or ten minutes, depends on the fighting,” Derek answered.

Stiles nodded and glanced at John who nodded back. They each slipped their cuffs before going to release the other humans who in turn worked to free the pack. “What, how did you?” Isaac spluttered.

“Sheriff,” Stiles gestured to his father, “trouble-making son of the sheriff,” he pointed to himself. “Did you really think I could slip a pair of handcuffs? Frankly I’m insulted.” He sniffed, “there wasn’t any point of getting out of them earlier.” They’d just gotten everyone out of the restraints when the door banged open to Deucalion, Kali, Ethan, and Aiden rushing into the room and slamming it shut behind them. Everyone froze and stared. All the werewolves could hear the attackers stop just outside the door. Deucalion growled and grabbed Stiles, holding him in front like a human shield just as the door was busted down revealing a deceptively calm Emma and a handful of SWAT.

“Hey, bro. Long time no see,” she grinned as she stepped into the room, arms loose at her sides where she held her two katana. She twirled the one in her right hand, “what’s going on, guys?”

Deucalion growled, tightening his grip on Stiles, “If you want him to leave here alive, I suggest you let us go.”

 _You want him?_ Emma asked.

 _I got him._ Stiles replied.

The group watched the looks pass between them. Deucalion reared back to bite Stiles. _Now!_

Stiles shifted, throwing off his weight before driving a dagger up through his neck and into his head. He dropped as Stiles stepped calmly away from the body and tucked away the dagger. Emma passed him the extra set of katana she’d had strapped to her back. Through all of this, no one else moved. They turned as one to face the three remaining alphas who snarled and attacked. Moving as a unit, they faced the alphas. The alphas tried to block the blows, but the blades were so sharp and the blows so strong that they simply sliced through the limbs. In a few short minutes, the remaining alpha pack lay bloody at their feet. 

 


	7. getting the heck out of dodge

Emma turned to the SWAT team and jerked her head; they filed silently out the door. Emma and Stiles bent to wipe the blood from their blades before stowing them. As they straightened, they took in the group’s stare and exchanged another look. _You wanna explain this or should I?_ Emma questioned.

 _Maybe see what they ask first?_ Stiles replied, uncertain.

 _I think they’re still processing. In the meantime…_ She wrapped him in a fierce hug.

“Em, I can’t… breathe,” he choked out.”

“Sorry,” she loosened her grip a bit. “I missed you,” she murmured, burying her face in his chest.

“Missed you too,” he whispered, resting his chin on the top of her head.

John walked over and joined their hug, “thanks for the rescue.” He gave her a small smile, “it’s good to see you, although I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Stiles, honey, you need to get those injuries seen to,” Melissa asserted, resting a gentle hand on his back.

He nodded, taking Emma’s hand and stepping toward the door. John followed with a hand on each of their backs.

 

The rest of the group stared dumbstruck as they exited the room. “What the hell was that?” Jackson exploded, breaking the silence. He turned to Scott, “did you know he could do that?”

“Does it look like I knew?” Scott retorted.

“When did Stiles have time to learn all of that?” Isaac wondered.

“He only moved to Beacon Hills the summer before seventh grade. That girl who busted in here? That was his cousin Emma. I’d bet he’s had those skills since long before he moved here,” Scott mused.

“I bet she’s not even his cousin,” Erica muttered.

“Maybe not, but you haven’t seen them together when they’re not fighting for our lives. They’re practically the same person, it’s almost scary,” Scott responded.

“It makes sense, doesn’t it?” Lydia asked. “He’s always known just a bit too much and when we’ve been in a jam, he’s been able to pull through, even when he really shouldn’t have been able to.”

Boyd spoke up, “Does it change anything?”

“No,” Derek answered, tersely. “He’s pack. In reality everyone who was captured is pack, regardless of whether or not they choose to recognize it.” He gave Scott a pointed look.

“We should probably head out,” Allison remarked, “I don’t know about you, but I want a hot bath.” The group slowly made their way of where they’d been held, taking in the amount of blood everywhere.

“Where are the bodies?” Melissa asked, not really expecting a response.

“Clean-up got them. We can’t exactly leave them here.” Emma responded as she came around the corner. “I was just looking for you. Ready to go?” She received a variety of nods. “Come on, then.” She jerked her head and turned back in the direction she’d come. The group trailed after her.

“How are we getting home?” Derek questioned.

“There are cars that will take you. I’d say just tell them where to go, but they kind of already know,” she replied.

“Scott said your name was Emma, but what’s your last name?” Lydia inquired.

“Stilinski, for all intents and purposes. No you don’t get to know my real name. Yes, I will be around for a while. Any other questions?”

“I think we’re good for now,” Derek said meaningfully, cutting off any remarks from the pack. He didn’t want to risk pissing off someone who would be such a formidable opponent.

Everyone gathered in front of the building after Stiles finished getting patched up. The SWAT team had already left and there were two SUVs and a blue Audi S5 Cabriolet sitting in the driveway. As Stiles went to get in the driver’s side of the Cabriolet, Emma hollered, “You’re not driving my car, Stiles, don’t even think about it!”

“Ughh, fineee. You’re no fun,” He groaned, hopping into the back instead.

“Split yourselves up among the two SUVs,” Emma ordered. “Get some rest, getting kidnapped is no one’s idea of a good time.” The pack split up: Scott, Melissa, and Allison in one SUV and Derek, Isaac, Lydia, and Jackson in the other. The Stilinskis waved to them as they pulled out of the driveway.

“What are you going to do about their facility?” John questioned.

She pulled a cheap looking cell phone out of her pocket and tossed it to John. “It’s wired to blow. One of you can do the honors on the way out.” She slid across the hood before situating herself behind the wheel. “Come on, John.” He seated himself beside her and passed the trigger to Stiles. _Just like CHAOS._ She thought as she pulled down the drive.

 _Yup._ Stiles replied, hitting send on the phone. Behind them the facility exploded into flames. None of them looked. Cool guys don’t look at explosions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be somewhat significantly longer than the others and likely posted sometime tomorrow (er, well today).


	8. questions, recovery, and visitation

Derek lay sprawled out on his bed in deep contemplation of what he’d learned on the past day. How had he missed all of that in Stiles? He was far more capable than any man had a right to be, even if he’d been a werewolf he shouldn’t have been that powerful, that resistant. He shuddered to think about what the alphas had done. They were dead and Stiles and his cousin (?) had killed them all. Who was this mysterious cousin who had come to their rescue and how did she fit into the puzzle that is Stiles? Why had John called Stiles Gideon in his fit of panic? Derek had too many questions and not enough answers, or any answers actually. They were going to have to have a serious conversation about the Stilinski family. They couldn’t have those kinds of secrets in the pack. What if someone from their past came after them? A sudden chill grasped his heart at the thought of something happening to Stiles. He dismissed the feeling as simply concern for a packmate.

He pulled a small black notebook from his backpocket. A wave of nostalgia washed over him. He’d always carried one; it was a habit he’d picked up from his Uncle Arthur. His uncle had worked as an editor for the Beacon Hills Chronicle and would always have a notebook on hand to jot down his thoughts. He sighed and began to make a list of his questions. Being rational about the whole thing would be good

  1. What has Stiles (Gideon?) done? Why is he so deadly?
  2. Is/Was the Sheriff involved?
  3. Who is Emma? How long has she known Stiles? How long is she staying? Where is she staying?
  4. Does any of it have to do with how Mrs. Stilinski died?
  5. What are any/all of them capable of?



 

He closed the notebook; he was sure he’d think of more later, but for now he was going to take some time to process and sleep. Sleep would be good. Emma was right on at least one count: getting kidnapped is no fun.

 

* * *

 

The drive back to the Stilinski house was a rather quiet one as both males were dozing. A scant thirty minutes later they arrived back. John and Stiles, stumbling slightly in exhaustion, made their way up the walk and inside. Emma followed, “Stiles, hand me your katana so I can clean all the weaponry before I sleep.” Stiles wordlessly handed of the swords before continuing his stumbling path up to his room. “Get some sleep John,” she said softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, “we’ll be fine for the night.”

She set up shop on the dining room table, taking care to clean all four katana as well as her variety of knives and guns. She took pride in making sure the array of weaponry was in pristine condition before packing it all away. She made her own way upstairs, peeking in on John who was already fast asleep, and continuing down the hall to Stiles’ room. She slipped quietly inside and Stiles blinked sleepily up at her and gesturing beside him. She stripped out of her boots and stole a pair of sweatpants out of the dresser before sliding in beside him. The only variation in their sleeping position from their childhood was that they now entwined their hands in a gesture of comfort. _Night G,_ she thought.

 

_Night, M,_ Stiles replied just before drifting off into a surprisingly peaceful sleep.

 

* * *

 

Stiles groaned as he woke the next morning, his body sore from the events of the previous day. It’s easier to ignore the pain during torture than to ignore the lingering pain in the days afterwards. He rolled over and poked Emma in the back. “If I have to be up and suffering, so do you,” he whispered harshly so as to not wake his father.

“Just go back to sleep,” she mumbled, refusing to budge.

 _UP!_ He shouted in her mind.

She jerked upright and turned to glare at him, _that is **rude** Stilinski._

 _Breakfast?_ he asked.

 _Yeah,_ She answered, _who’s cooking and is your kitchen actually stocked this time?_

 _Yes we have food, Em,_ He groaned, _we can both cook; I’m famished._

They clumsily made their way downstairs. You’d never know what they were capable of by looking at them. Once in the kitchen, they moved in tandem, tossing utensils and ingredients to each other. It took them only a short time to whip up a huge breakfast. There were plates of French toast, pancakes, eggs, bacon, and even some crepes. “We probably didn’t need to make this much food,” Stiles observed.

“It’s therapeutic,” Emma shrugged. There was a soft knock at the door.

“I’ve got it!” Stiles whisper-shouted, running for the door and skidding to a stop. He opened the door to reveal… Derek and Isaac? “You know how to use the front door?!”

“Yes, we know how to use the front door,” Derek responded, rolling his eyes, “it’s just easier to use the window, especially when I thought I had to avoid your **Sheriff father**.”

“And you knocked too,”

“Yes, Stiles,” Derek growled, becoming agitated, “astute observation. May we come in now?”

“Sure, since you asked so nicely. Have you guys eaten? We just made breakfast and there’s no way we’ll be able to eat it all. Plus we have to eat all the bacon before Dad wakes up.” He turned and walked back to the kitchen. Isaac and Derek trailed somewhat uncomfortably behind him.

“Oh for heaven’s sake just sit down and eat something!” Emma threw her arms up in exasperation.

:You were not kidding when you said you wouldn’t be able to eat all the food,” Isaac affirmed, staring wide-eyed at the table.

“So what are you doing here?” Emma questioned, her voice light.

“We came to see how Stiles was doing seeing as he took the brunt of everything yesterday,” Derek replied.

“Well I’m not dead as you can very well see,” Stiles gestured rapidly to himself before seating himself at the table.

“Why aren’t you eating anything? I bet you don’t take care of yourselves! Sit down and eat,” Emma commanded.

Stiles shot her a look. “I know it’s hard for you to not be the overbearing Jewish mother that you are, but really?” he asked drily.

“You have a kid?!” Isaac gawked at her.

“No I don’t actually have a kid, but I am Jewish and I do act like a stereotypical Jewish mother, so it’s close enough. Now at least eat the bacon before John comes downstairs, his heart’s bad enough as it is.”

“You’re bizarre,” Derek blurted out.

Stiles and Em exchanged a look, _he doesn’t even know._ They both laughed before digging into the food. Isaac and Derek joined in, eating a not completely unexpectedly large amount of food.

“So when are you going to interrogate us?” Emma asked.

Stiles barked out a laugh, “It’s like you know him already.”

Derek scowled, “I didn’t know if you’d rather it happen more privately or with the whole pack present. I wasn’t going to do it now if that’s what you’re implying. I’m not that heartless.”

“Sure you aren’t dude.” Stiles patted him on the shoulder.

“Don’t call me dude.”

“Boys,” Emma warned.

Both Stiles and Derek ducked their heads, muttering, “Sorry.”

“Did you just submit to her?” Isaac hissed.

“It’s a sign of respect. Do you think she hasn’t earned that?” Derek returned, “and in any case we’re in her territory.”

“Can’t we just have a nice meal?” Emma pleaded, changing tactics. The air emptied except for the sounds of eating and clinking dishes.

When they were finished, Emma put some of the leftovers in the warming drawer for John and packed up the rest, directing the boys to take care of the dishes.

“So are we going to talk about this now or later?” Stiles asked when they’d finished cleaning up.

“Later I think,” Emma replied, “I think it’d be good for the whole pack to be there. Clear the air and only have to explain once.”

“Fair enough,” Derek responded.

“You guys sticking around or heading out?” Stiles asked.

“We’ll get out of your hair,” Derek answered, motioning for Isaac to exit before following him out the door.

 “Congratulations for finally learning to use the door!” Stiles called after them, getting in a parting shot and shutting the door.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a note: I know bacon is not kosher. Emma does not keep kashrut laws even though she is Jewish.
> 
> I'm less happy with this chapter, especially the third part, but I wanted some domesticity.
> 
> I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up; it's giving me some trouble.


	9. getting some answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On one hand, I'm trapped because of Sandy. On the other hand, I'm getting some writing done.

About a week later, everyone gathered at the newly renovated Hale House. The gathering started off rather awkwardly as no one really wanted to do what they were there for: interrogate some of their own. And their ‘cousin’

“Alright,” Stiles finally spoke up, “let’s get this over with. What do you want to know?”

“Is Emma actually your cousin?” Scott blurted out. Derek let out a sigh, pinching his nose. He knew he should have taken control of the situation, just like he knew the situation was going to quickly spiral out of control.

“No, we are not blood relations. We were partners and in some ways that’s closer than blood. You trust your partner to have your back, to ensure you make it back alive and safe even in the worst circumstances.” Emma answered seriously.

A small smirk twisted Stiles’ lips, _We’d know something about those circumstances, wouldn’t we?_

“What sort of circumstances?” Erica asked, curious.

Stiles and Emma exchanged a look, “We can’t really give you any specifics, for both your safety and ours, but it may help to think of something akin to Mission Impossible or Bourne. Those aren’t too off base from some of the shit we’ve had to deal with” Stiles responded.

Lydia raised her eyebrows, “You’re not exaggerating, are you?”

“No. We don’t have to exaggerate. What we did was dangerous, exhilarating, but dangerous.” Emma replied.

“Were you involved?” Derek directed his question at John.

He hesitated a moment before responding, “Yes. As was Stiles’ mother.”

“And you’ve been out of the game as one would say?”

“That is correct, since about the time she died.”

“And her death was related to both your occupation and your decision to leave?

“Yes.”

“Would I also be correct in assuming that we don’t know anyone’s true names?”

“Yes.”

“So how long have you known Stiles, Emma?” Melissa asked Emma.

“We’ve been together in some form or another since we were seven,” She replied.

“So it’d be fair to say you know each other fairly well?”

She gave a short laugh, “Yeah, you could say that.”

“How long are you going to be staying?” Scott questioned.

“It depends, I could go for some time off, but I often get called for jobs,” she shrugged, “it’s an unfortunate side effect of being one of the best.”

“Modest much?” Stiles smirked.

“It’s not like I’m embellishing,” she flipped her hair, “I hacked the system, I’ve seen my ranking.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “You’d also be wanted by almost everyone if they knew who you were.”

“But they don’t.”

“You’re staying with Stiles, I assume?” Erica interrupted.

“Yeah,” Emma and Stiles responded in unison.

“That was freaky,” Jackson noted.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Stiles muttered.

 _Werewolf hearing._ Emma thumped him on the back of the head. Derek let out a low warning growl. “Oh shut up, sourwolf,” Emma said, crossly. The group shot her a funny look; Emma hadn’t been around for that. “What? You think Stiles and I don’t talk?” They accepted her explanation for her knowledge of previous events.

“Have you, the three of you, had dealing with the supernatural in the past?” Lydia asked suddenly.

“You could say that,” Stiles shifted uncomfortably before getting to the root of the question, “I mean, we hadn’t really had any specific interactions with werewolves, but we knew some basics. We’re obviously better informed now.”

The doorbell rang, signaling the pizza had arrived. They took a break from the interrogation to gather around the massive white oak table Derek had placed in the dining room. They dove in like, well, a pack of ravenous wolves.

“What did Stiles mean when he said you’d be wanted by almost everyone?” Derek questioned.

Em paused before answering, “Let’s just say that while most of my jobs are above board, some that less so. Those above get me in trouble with the shady characters while those below get me into trouble with everyone else.”

“Are there any stories you can tell us?” Isaac asked, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of meat lovers’ pizza.

“We can’t really give you any specifics because they’re either classified, illegal, will get us killed, or a combination of the above,” Emma began, “but there was one time we wingsuit flew from about 19,000 feet while being chased by several fighter jets. Granted, that was only because they got a lucky shot in, hitting our jet…” she trailed off.

“Or the time you had to escape from that freaky school by snowboarding down a mountain on an ironing board.” Stiles interjected.

“Or the time you BASE jumped off the Burj Khalifa.” The group gaped at them.

“Or the time you took out eleven armed men while armed with only your hair chopsticks.”

“Or—“

“Okay, okay, we get it!” Jackson interrupted, “you guys are lethal and dangerous and have done crazy things.” He glared at them, “Stop bragging.”

Stiles huffed, “You guys asked. Besides, it’s nice to be able to share some of my life experiences.”

“Does your dad know everything you’ve done?” Allison asked.

Stiles averted his eyes. “No,” he spoke softly.

“Does anyone?” Stiles didn’t respond, but his eyes darted quickly to Emma.

“So you two are really close then?” Boyd inquired, reiterating the question from earlier.

“They’re practically inseparable,” John responded, “even taking Stiles out didn’t do it.”

“Have you been on any jobs since you moved to Beacon Hills, Stiles?” Melissa questioned.

Stiles avoided his father’s eyes, “I can’t really talk about that.”

“Stiles!” John said sharply, “I thought we talked about that.”

“Did you really expect me to stay here when she was in danger?!” Stiles responded angrily, “I don’t have a lot of people in my life, but I do my damnedest to protect the ones I have. Just look at what happened with the alphas!”

“We’ll be talking about this later. Both of you,” John warned.

“How didn’t you notice?” Lydia asked incredulously.

John glared at her, “What part of highly trained operatives do you not understand? She’s one of the best if not the best I’ve ever seen and she’s still a teenager. If she and Stiles wanted to get up to something, I don’t think anyone could stop them.” Both younger Stilinskis tensed at his comment. “Is there something you kids want to tell me?”

“No. It’s really best you don’t know, plausible deniability and all,” Stiles answered meekly.

“Jesus! Do I even want to know what you kids have been getting up to?”

They exchanged a quick glance. “Definitely not,” Emma answered for them.

John set his head heavily in his palms, questioning his life’s choices. “I think we should go home and possibly have a chat. Or sit around awkwardly until someone breaks, which considering our family history will be never,” John stated weakly.

Both kids nodded before standing and heading for the door. “If you have any more questions, you know where to find us,” Stiles called over his shoulder on his way out the door.

* * *

It was quiet in the house as the wolves listened to the cruiser pull out of the drive and remained quiet as everyone tried to process what they had learned about the Stilinskis.

“What..?” Scott began then paused, “how…?” He paused again, his face scrunching up in confusion before he managed to formulate a clear question. “Why and how could we not know?”

“If our impressions are to be believed, they’re very good at what they do, sweetie.” Melissa wrapped Scott in a hug, trying to comfort him from the continuing shock of discovering his best friend’s secrets. “They were trying to protect us as well as themselves. You should know better than most that some secrets need to be kept.”

“But he’s my best friend. How could he keep something like that from me? He wasn’t even active anymore and he knew about my werewolf stuff!” Scott cried.

“You and everyone else, including John, just found out that’s not entirely true, Emma was never out, and let’s be honest, if you didn’t have Stiles helping you probably wouldn’t have made it this long. There’s a reason werewolves have a pack.” Melissa chastised; she had adapted well to the knowledge of werewolves and the occasional kidnapping or threat.

“As we established back in the facility the Alphas were holding us, Stiles and his father are both pack. The fact that we discovered that John is a retired spy and Stiles is a not quite retired spy-slash-assassin is not going to change that. It would be beneficial to have those kinds of skills on our side anyway.” Derek explained, his patience wearing somewhat thinned.

“Where does Emma fit in though?” Isaac asked.

“That’s more complicated. It’s obvious that she and Stiles are close, but that’s not enough to necessarily make her pack, however, she did rescue us,” Derek shrugged, “I think it’s something that we’ll figure out with time. I’m pretty sure she probably knows almost everything if not everything that’s been going on. She strikes me as that type”

“So what? We include her in the meantime and just be cautious about it?” Erica questioned.

“I think that’s probably the best approach,” Derek responded.

“I still can’t believe we didn’t know about any of it,” Lydia whispered, “not that he’s probably a genius, or crazy deadly, or can handle himself. There’s a huge part of him that we had no clue about.”

“There’s always been more to Stiles than meets the eye,” Boyd spoke up.

Erica raised her eyebrows, “and you noticed?”

“I’m quiet. I notice a lot of things.” Boyd pointed out.

“Fair enough,” she conceded.

Scott stood up, dislodging his mother’s arms, “I’m gonna go see him. I was giving him space and taking some space for myself, but I think it’s time.”

“I’m proud of you, honey,” Melissa rubbed his arm affectionately, “but you should take your time in getting there; I’m pretty sure John is chewing them out for keeping stuff from him.” Scott left, taking off toward the Stilinski House at a slow jog. “Do you kids, yes, that includes you, Derek, need continued supervision or can I take off as well?”

Derek grimaced, “I think we’re good, Melissa, thanks.”

“Do you think they’d help Lydia and me with some weapons training?” Allison wondered as she headed toward the door.

“That’s a good idea, but it’s up to them, obviously,” Lydia agreed, following after her with Jackson trailing behind her.

 

“We’ll see you guys around,” Erica called, taking Boyd by the hand and venturing out, leaving only Derek and Isaac behind at the Hale House.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, that was a lot of dialogue.  
> In case it isn't clear, Isaac lives with Derek. The Sheriff helped get the paperwork through.


	10. a serious conversation & the friendship lives on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's been a while. I'm hoping to be better with updates.  
> I changed the end of the last chapter, adding a bunch at the end. I put one of those breaks in so it's easy to find.

It was a tense car ride back to the Stilinski House to say the least: John made both kids sit in the back of the cruiser.

“I feel like a juvenile delinquent. Should you handcuff us too?” Stiles grumbled

“You should be glad I didn’t handcuff you, even if you could just slip them. You hid a lot from me,” John retorted, “I’m your father. You shouldn’t have hid all that from me.”

“It was to protect you,” Stiles whispered, but John just sighed and shook his head, pulling down the driveway.

 _What do we tell him? What **can** we tell him? _ Stiles thought frantically.

_We tell him only what we have to and we **definitely** don’t tell him about CHAOS, although he’ll probably work that out on his own._

_He’s my dad; I wish I could just be honest with him._

_I know, sweetie,_ she grasped his hand, _but in this game we’re lucky we have anyone we can be that honest with. How much of us being each other’s confidante is a result of the curse, you think?_

 _Pretty much all of it._ He sighed. _We could probably thank that witch, seeing as she actually made our lives a lot easier. At least after we figured out how to control it._

_Yeah, she probably just thought it would be a curse based on how much we talked._

_But we don’t talk as much now, do we?_

_Nope. We’re older and supposedly wiser. Plus we gotta keep up the mystique._ She bumped him with her shoulder.

It was quiet between them for a moment. _But in all honesty, how much can we tell my dad?_

_We should really tell him as little as possible and only the safe details. Plus there’s no need to worry him now about how often we’ve endangered our lives in the past. No one needs to know about the connection._

_I suppose you’re right. We do it to protect him, eh?_

_That we do, kid. That we do._

_You’re only a month older than me!_

_But what a month it is._

_M, that doesn’t even make sense._

_It doesn’t have to._

_Yeah, whatever you say. How are your folks?_

_They’re doing okay, as far as I can tell. I’ll never really know though_

_To protect them, right?_ He gently squeezed her hand in sympathy.

 _I just miss them._ She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. They sat quietly, in both their voices and minds, for the remainder of the ride.

John slammed his door shut before letting them out of the back. “Alright, kiddies, inside,” He ordered.

Stiles groaned, “ **Dad** , we’re not kids anymore. I’m not sure we ever were.”

“While that may be true, the point stands,” He opened the door and pointed inside, “living room – **now**.” They trudged into the living room and sprawled out on the couch. John took up the armchair slightly offset from them. “So what haven’t you been telling me about?”

“What things?” Emma asked innocently.

“Oh cut the crap, you know exactly what I mean.”

“Yeah, but it would be better for everyone’s safety if it just stayed between us,” Stiles retorted, gesturing between himself and Emma.

“But you’re my son and Emma is as close to other family as we have. I want to know what’s happening in your lives.”

 _Close? Ha. He doesn’t even know._ Emma thought.

“But, Dad, we want to keep our family safe, the less people who know about what we do and what we’ve done the better.”

“While I can appreciate that, I’m still your father and you running around doing these ‘little’ jobs is not conducive to your safety. Okay. So you can’t give me specifics, how often was this occurring?”

“As you can imagine, I would usually come visit after completing a string of jobs. Some of the trips he and I took as well as some of the other times you thought he was elsewhere we were actually on jobs. There’s no real pattern. We’re good at what we do; it’s not surprising you didn’t notice.”

John got up and poured himself a few fingers of whiskey before sighing and taking a sip. “I really don’t want to know what to do with you.” They both nodded ashamedly. “Stiles, you said you were protecting her, what did you mean?”

“Well after we left, she mostly did solo jobs, said she didn’t trust anyone else to be her partner. Sometimes she was sent on jobs where she needed a partner so I went with her.”

“Is this true?”

“Pretty much, John.”

“Alright, I can’t say I condone what you did, but I understand it. I know you don’t feel that you can or that it’s safe to tell me, so I won’t push. I don’t like it, but you can keep your secrets.”

Both kids let out a breath of relief. “Thanks, Dad.” Stiles flung himself into his father’s lap, wrapping him in a tight hug.

John returned it, saying, “I love you, kid, but you’re a bit big for this.”

“I know, but I miss being a kid, what of it I got to be.” Stiles released him and removed himself from his lap before heading upstairs. Emma crossed the room, hugging John just as fiercely as Stiles. “Thank you, John,” she whispered, “you know that you and Stiles are as close to family as I get these days.”

“I know, Em, and I’m glad you still come around. Even if you sometimes take Stiles out, although to be honest that’s probably how he’s survived this long without spontaneously combusting.”

She let out a small laugh before responding, “I’m glad you’re being understanding. Stiles needs you and so do I.” She pressed a small kiss to the top of his head before finally following Stiles’ path up to his room.

 

* * *

 

Stiles had pulled out his laptop and was in the process of making a bowl of popcorn when Emma walked in. “Movie night?” He proposed, “figured it’s a decent enough way to relax.”

“Sounds good,” she plopped down on his bed, “what are we watching?”

“I was thinking _An American Werewolf in London_ , you know, for research.”

Emma laughed, “cool.” One of the silent alarms tripped, indicating an intruder was headed for their window. Emma pulled a small caliber pistol out, holding it hidden beside her right thigh while Stiles gripped a Bowie knife concealed under the folds of his sweatshirt. Both were braced for a violent entry, but the window was lifted carefully before Scott’s face appeared. Both released their weapons as Scott clambered through the window.

“What are you doing here, dude?” Stiles asked.

“Well we haven’t had bro time in a while and I haven’t seen Emma outside of life threatening situations in ages. You’re my best friend no matter what and I wanted to make sure you knew that,” Scott answered earnestly.

Stiles shook his head slightly with a smile, “Yeah, okay. We’re about to watch _An American Werewolf in London_.”

Scott groaned, “Of course that’s what you’re watching.”

“Hey, appreciate the classics!” Emma interjected.

“Finee,” Scott raised his hands in mock surrender. The three of them settled on the bed, Emma in the middle with the laptop and Scott and Stiles flanking her. She rested her head on Stiles’ shoulder as the opening credits played.

Em dropped off about halfway through the movie, leaving only the two boys awake. “Brings back old times, doesn’t it?” Scott asked.

“Yeah it does,” Stiles replied, glancing fondly over at the two of them.

“Just think of how much trouble we would’ve gotten into if I’d known about you two then.”

 

“I think we got into plenty of trouble anyway,” he laughed.

“Yeah, that’s probably true, but it could’ve been more interesting trouble.”

“Running for your life isn’t nearly as interesting as it should be. Well, unless you’re an adrenaline junkie maybe.”

“You could’ve taught me how to fight, man.”

“”I don’t think we’d have gotten very far with your asthma though.”

“True, true,” Scott sighed.

The ending credits rolled and Stiles shut the laptop, placing it in the headboard behind them. “I’m about to pass out. Duh you can stay, don’t give me the kicked puppy look.”

Scott shot him a small smile before getting up to grab a pair of sweats from Stiles’ drawers and slipping back into bed. “Just like old times.”

“Just like old times,” Stiles agreed before they both drifted off to sleep.

When the sheriff poked his head in, his face softened into a smile. Seeing the three kids piled into Stiles’ bed had been a common sight whenever Emma and Scott were both over and it seemed like things hadn’t changed a bit.


	11. back to basics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long, I've been stuck in a domestic rut :/  
> I'm leaning towards making this a series so I can get to the fun stuff

Morning came early the next day, John banging on the door calling, “Up and at ‘em. You don’t get to sleep all day. I’m headed into work; you better be getting up!”

The three kids groaned their way back to consciousness. “It’s summer, why do we have to get up?” Scott whined.

“I’m on an extremely rare vacation, and even then sleep is rare for me. You think I’m happy about this?” Emma grumbled.

“Both of you shut up. I’m not moving yet,” Stiles ordered, burying his face in a pillow.

Emma rolled over Stiles and out of bed as Stiles moaned in protest under her weight. She landed lightly on her feet and gave Stiles a sharp nudge between his shoulders. “You’ve been alert since you dad’s first knock. If I have to be up and suffering, then so do you!” She threw his words back in his face.

“Ugh, I hate you,” Stiles complained, rolling over and rubbing his face.

“C’mon! We can make another big breakfast!”

“Not as big as last time though.”

“What are you two on about?” Scott asked from beneath the covers.

“Well the day after the whole kidnapping debacle, we made a huge breakfast. The only reason it was all consumed was because Derek and Isaac showed up and we invited them to eat with us,” Emma responded in a sing-song voice, tanking the comforter away. “Great food adventures await!”

“You are way too energetic in the morning,” Scott commented, wrinkling his nose.

“It runs in the blood. Also the shadowy world I live in,” Emma replied as she bounded out of the room, catching her shoulder on the doorframe.

“I don’t understand how you two are capable operatives. I swear you’re like the most uncoordinated people I’ve met in my life.”

“We’re awesome. Don’t question it,” Stiles mumbled in reply before finally sitting up in bed. He knocked Scott on the shoulder. “C’mon, man, we better get down there before she decides to get a bucket of ice water or sets the kitchen on fire.”

“You _know_ Em’s good enough at both cooking and baking that there’s no risk of that.”

“But the bucket of ice water is still a viable threat.”

“Alright, I see your point.” Scott stood and stretched before hightailing it down to the kitchen; Stiles following close behind.

In the short time she’d been downstairs, Emma had managed to turn the kitchen inside out: there were pots and pans everywhere, not to mention the ingredients strewn about. “She may be good with food, but she sure makes a mess,” Scott muttered.

“I heard that! Just for that you get to chop the onions; I’m making keish.”

“What do you need me to do?” Stiles asked.

“Start on the bacon. You’ll also be responsible for the French toast when we get there.”

“We don’t need to make a feast, Em,” Stiles protested.

“Cooking makes me feel better, normal. You can always call some other pack members to eat it.”

“Fine.” Stiles threw up his hands in surrender. “You get to go grocery shopping then. And you’re paying.”

“Fine by me. Lord knows I have more money than I know what to do with.” A dark look came over her face. “Blood money,” She spat.

“I thought you liked your job?” Scott questioned, confused.

“I don’t know how to do anything else,” She confessed softly. Scott made a small, broken noise before wrapping her in a fierce hug, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She hugged back, running a hand through his hair and leaning into him. “Thanks, Scott. Come on, breakfast. I just. I need.”

“Okay,” Scott murmured, “normalcy, right?”

“Yeah,” She sighed as she released Scott. You could almost see the walls she built come back up, but those walls were to hold her together, not keep the boys out.

They worked quickly and ended up with another feast: keish, bacon, French toast, hash browns, and muffins. The three of them stood, staring at the array of food. “I think we did it again,” Stiles commented as the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” Scott dashed for the door, yanking it open. “Derek? Isaac? What are you guys doing here?”

“They probably smelled the food,” Stiles joked. Derek just rolled his eyes and shouldered past Scott; Isaac followed closely behind.

“Look, you didn’t even have to call anyone,” Emma smiled brightly.

Stiles made a face. “I’m not sure if that’s something I should be worried about or not.”

Everyone drifted to the kitchen table laden down with food. Emma began to serve plates. “I’m going to assume you’ll eat anything cause you’re either a werewolf, a teenage boy, or both.”

“Hey!” Stiles and Scott protested.

“Is it true?” She questioned…

“Yeah…” They grumbled

“So just eat the food and be happy.” She finished serving and sat down at the head of the table, Stiles and Scott to either side and Derek opposite her with Isaac next to Scott at Derek’s right. While the younger boys immediately dove in, Derek watched as Emma first bowed her head, her lips moving silently in prayer, before eating.

“You didn’t do that last time,” Derek observed.

“I’d said ‘motzi before you got here last time; this time I hadn’t had the chance.”

“’motzi?” He asked.

“Short for hamotzi, the blessing for bread,”

“So did you say birkat after we left last week?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Oh I like you. You’re nowhere near as clueless as you’d have people think.”

“I’ve been having a bit of a tough time more recently, but I’m hardly stupid.”

“But that’s to be expected, I think. A lot of stuff to adjust to.”

He inclined his head. “I suppose. I do wish I’d been able to handle it a bit better though.”

The relatively peaceful breakfast was interrupted by Emma’s phone blaring the pink panther. She quickly jumped up and left out the back door, answering with “Go for M.”

“Does that happen a lot?” Isaac asked Stiles.

“No comment,” Stiles sighed, “it means she’s probably going to be leaving a lot earlier than she planned. Can’t you hear her conversation?”

“Nah,” Scott replied, “she’s out of range. I’m not sure how far she went.”

The boys finished eating in relative silence in anticipation of Emma’s return. “Dirty dishes in the sink, grab the leftovers so I can package them up,” Stiles ordered. The wolves complied with Stiles’ instructions and breakfast was quickly cleaned up. They migrated into the living room, waiting for news.

It was another ten minutes before Emma came back, her face dark with anger. “I have to leave; there’s been a situation.”

 _What kind of situation?_ “What kind of situation?” Scott’s question echoed Stiles’

 _A leak, everyone’s being called in._ “One that requires all hand on deck,” She replied coolly, the mask she’d perfected for the company slipping back into place. She disappeared upstairs to grab her go bag, hurrying swiftly back down the stairs.”Tell John I’m sorry my visit got cut short.” She paused to place a quick kiss on Stiles’ cheek. “It was nice meeting everyone. Sorry I’ve got to run.”

“Be safe.” Stiles hugged her hastily before she rushed out the door. _Let me know how everything shakes out._

_Will do._

“Do her visits often end like that?” Derek inquired.

“More often than not.” Stiles ran a hand haphazardly through his hair.

“Since Emma’s gone, do you want to have a pickup lax game?” Scott asked.

Stiles smiled gratefully, “That sounds great, Scotty.”

“Great, meet at the field in an hour?”

“Sounds good, Isaac, you in?”

“Definitely, I’ll call Boyd.”

“Derek?” Stiles asked.

“Do you even know how to lax?” Scott cracked.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Of course I know how to play lacrosse. I grew up and went to school here.”

“So are you in?” Isaac prompted.

“Sure,” Derek surrendered exasperatedly.

“Jackson?” Scott asked.

“I suppose we have to,” Stiles grimaced.

”He’s gotten better since he transitioned to full wolf though,” Isaac protested.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles waved his hand dismissively. “And break.” He clapped once. The wolves glared at him, but dispersed to prepare for the lacrosse game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lax = lacrosse  
> Birkat is short for Birkat Hamazon, the grace after meals  
> I want to say the next chapter will be up soon, but by now I should know better than to say that. I promise I have started it and I'm trying :)


	12. feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was relatively soon for me. I did some housekeeping, mostly just combining chapters. What I didn't realize until afterwards, was that it deleted some comments as well :/ I also added some new tags/changed some tags for slight changes in direction.

Stiles  arrived home tired, but more relaxed than he’d been since his last mission. He no longer has to hide his physical prowess, so he easily kept pace with the wolves. Derek’s lacrosse skills were a nice surprise and he shut Jackson down hard. Stiles, Derek, and Isaac were able to crush Jackson, Scott, and Boyd. Stiles was still laughing at Jackson’s angry face when he figured out he wouldn’t be winning that game.

Stiles wandered upstairs to shower. He stood under the spray, letting it pound against his scalp, relieving the last of the tension seizing his muscles. He meandered back into his room, drying his hair as he went. It was getting long again, he was tempted to buzz it, but it might be nice to just let it be for once.

He pulled on his favorite Batman boxers and a vintage Star Wars shirt before flopping into his computer chair and letting his mind float. What did the leak mean for Em? Or for him and his dad for that matter? Where was the leak spreading the information?

 _Any news?_ He asked.

_Nothing good, they’re sending me on an assignment in the Far East, they think that’s where the information’s being sent._

_Do you think anything was leaked about my dad or me?_

_I don’t think so, you guys have technically been inactive for years, but then again I did just take an extraction team to rescue your sorry asses. I’d be on guard._

_Will do. Be safe, and I hope you find those bastards._

_Haha thanks, stay safe and keep me updated on your supernatural shenanigans._

His window slid upwards and he spun around, gun pointed directly at the intruder.

“Relax, Stiles, it’s just me,” Derek raised his hands in a placating manner.

Stiles huffed a sigh, “And here I thought you’d be using the front door from now on. You should really know better than to sneak up on me, although you did much better than Scott at avoiding the detection measures.”

Derek smirked. “I certainly hope I’d be better than Scott at going undetected.”

“Point taken. What’s up though?”

“Just thought I’d come see how you were doing after your cousin had to take off.”

Stiles’ eyes narrowed slightly as he scrutinized the man before him. “That’s not our normal behavior and you know she’s not really my cousin.”

“You’re right, and neither is Isaac and I showing up for breakfast at the front door, or you killing several alpha werewolves without breaking a sweat.”

“Fair enough. I’m fine, this is not the first time it’s happened, nor will it be the last.” He spun back to face his computer, muttering, “hopefully the reason will be different though.”

“What do you mean?”

Stiles blanched slightly, but didn’t let it show. “Should be nothing to worry about.”

“And by ‘should be’ you mean…”

Emma was right; he was sharp. Stiles was on the fence on whether or not that was a good thing or a bad thing. “Leak, there’s been a leak,” He finally replied softly.

“Shit.”

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

“Which of her employers has a leak?”

“Oh you’ve caught onto that, have you?”

“I think that her comments about my intelligence aren’t something to be taken lightly.”

“No they’re not. Regardless of which institution has a leak, it’s bad news.”

“Duh, Stiles.” Derek fixed his stink eye on Stiles.

Stiles just snickered, “You’ve been hanging around teenagers too much, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek retorted incensed.

“Whatever, man. You hang with teenagers, it’s gonna happen.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like to deal with it.”

“True, I try to enjoy being a normal teenager as much as possible when I can; however, I don’t think I’d survive if I had to be normal all the time.”

“Not after your past?”

“Yeah, I was in that world for so long, especially when I was so young… it’s hard to leave it behind.”

“I can’t even imagine, and I’ve always been pretty far from normal.”

Stiles snorted, “That’s one way to put it.”

Derek took a swipe at Stiles’ head. “Rude.”

“Since you’re here, do you want to watch a movie? I got the new Batman.”

“Sure, why not.”

Stiles jerked his chin towards the bed. “Make yourself comfortable, I’m going to make some popcorn.”

Derek slipped off his jacket, hanging it on the computer chair, and toed out of his hoes, leaving them by the window. He settled himself on the bed, shifting some of the pillows so he could sit up. Stiles wandered back in, pausing a moment to take in Derek lying on his bed before passing Derek the bowl of popcorn and grabbing his laptop from the desk.

“Are you ready for two and a half hours of awesomeness?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Derek answered drily.

Stiles climbed in beside Derek, tucking himself into his side and balancing the laptop on their legs. He started the movie and settled even closer into Derek, resting his head on his shoulder. Derek’s arm snaked around his side and settled on his hip, leaning his head gently onto Stiles’.

Sometime around when Bruce wakes up in Blackgate prison, Stiles slips into sleep. Derek takes his eyes off the movie to take in Stiles sleeping form. In sleep he looks so young and nothing like the hard man they’ve come to know in recent weeks.

At that moment, Derek realized that he was slowly falling for Stiles, both the carefree, snarky version and the hardened, capable version. Of course he had no idea what to do with the realization, so he tabled it for later pondering, choosing instead to enjoy the feel of him right now by his side.

The movie ended and Derek carefully shut the lid and moved the laptop to the headboard, taking care not to jostle Stiles. He came to a second realization: Stiles must trust him a lot for him to sleep and be so vulnerable in his presence. That gave Derek hope that they could eventually have something between them.

Derek leaned his head back onto Stiles’ and joined him in sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't write boys lax because it differs so much from girls and I never really paid that much attention to boys lacrosse, other than the boys lax team practiced/played on the field next to ours.
> 
> I hope that everyone likes the direction I'm choosing to take :)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Power by Kanye West  
> So I just started writing this in bio lecture, anyway, I'm not really sure where I'm going with this but I guess we'll find out when I get there.


End file.
